


Red Riding Hood

by Gryffindorian2014



Category: Fairy Tales & Related Fandoms, Little Red Riding Hood (Fairy Tale)
Genre: Adult Content, Adult Red Riding Hood, Alternate Universe - Dark, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, F/M, Fairy Tale Retellings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-18 03:40:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11283012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gryffindorian2014/pseuds/Gryffindorian2014
Summary: An adult retelling of the classic Grimm fairy tale 'Little Red Riding hood'.





	Red Riding Hood

 

**Disclaimer: This ficlet is written purely for entertainment purposes and no copyright infringement is intended**.

 

* * *

**Athelyna**

* * *

 

Athelyna listened to the tales of old, wondering just like the other boys and girls if there were really creatures like her grandmother described. She thought it would be magical to meet up with one of the furious beasts of the forest, curl her fist and pop them on the nose. They would fear her. She knew they would. The sound of her father's voice pulled her from the story she was weaving in her own mind and she sighed when she heard her grandmother stop talking.

"It is time for you to go home," her grandmother Beatrix said, a look of worry falling across her face as she realized the sun had set. Athelyna quietly rose from her place on the floor and walked obediently to her father's side.  
"My kiss, girl," her grandmother called out and Athelyna quickly ran over to give the wrinkled soft cheek a tender kiss. She wrapped her arms around the frail body, hugging her tight.

When Athelyna returned to her father's side, she found her red cloak held out to her. She slipped it on, once more feeling the love of her grandmother surround her. "Always wear the cloak, girl," Beatrix called and Athelyna dutifully nodded her head. She stepped out into the night, with her father holding her hand tightly. They walked the worn path together. Tonight though, her father seemed unsettled and Athelyna had to hurry to keep up with him. Her feet began to catch on loose roots that helped to make up the path and eventually she fell, crying out as her palms dug into the rock. "Father!"

Athelyna's father stopped to pick up his seven-year-old little girl and hurried through the forest. The young man felt death at his door and tried to outrace it. A growl seemed to emerge from the darkest pits of the forest and Athelyna screamed as a pair of yellow-green eyes suddenly appeared behind her. She saw the claws reach out and she felt the air from the blow caress her cheek. Her father screamed in agony, the sound high-pitched and deafening to Athelyna's ears. Suddenly she seemed weightless as the hold her father had on her grew slack and she fell to the ground. She cried as her cloak of red became covered in dirt and the rocks on the path cut into her skin.

"Stay on the path!"

Her father screamed and turned to face the demon that had struck out at him and his daughter. Athelyna saw the gaping wound; her father's ribs and spine were exposed to the moonlight that filtered into the woods through the treetops.

"Papa!"

"Go! Stay on the path!"

Those words were the last that Athelyna heard as she watched her father's neck become wrapped in a thick-furred claw. His body was lifted high in the air and as Athelyna scrambled to her feet she saw the snout of a wolf rip into her father's throat. She turned and ran as fast as her legs could carry her. The screams that poured from her tiny lungs continued for three more hours as she lay in her bed, her mother fretting over her.

* * *

 

**Eleven Years Later**

* * *

 

Athelyna touched the soft fabric of her newest cloak.

"Thank you, grandmother." She stood up and walked over to the bent figure who stirred a pot of stew. "It is beautiful; just like always." She kissed her cheek and then motioned for the old woman to sit and she began to work at the stove, finishing the meal that her grandmother had started. "Mother packed bread and jam this afternoon. I believe peach is your favourite flavour." Athelyna heard a soft squeal from her grandmother and smiled as she pictured the woman licking her lips in anticipation of the sweet gelled confection.

When the soup was finished, she dished out a helping for the frail lady and herself. Time passed as they conversed about the locals as well as her mother. When it was time for Athelyna to go, she pulled on her new red cloak and picked up the now empty basket. "I'll see you tomorrow, grandmother," she said as she made her way to the door.

"Stay on the path and keep your cloak tied tight, child."

Athelyna smiled and nodded her head. She stepped out into the sunlight and took a deep breath, enjoying the scent of the forest. With her basket in hand she began to weave her way through the woods, never straying from her path. As time slipped by she felt a shudder run through her. She pushed it back as best she could, but eventually her thoughts returned to the terror she had witnessed so long ago.

It had taken herself eleven years to return to the path in which her father's life was stolen from her. During those eleven years, her mother had drilled into her that what she saw was not real, but just a little girl's nightmare brought on by stories a demented old woman told to make little girls and boys of the village be good. Athelyna, over time, accepted it and when she began to go back to her grandmother's home it was with a strained confidence that she carried. The snapping of a twig brought her out of her reverie and she stopped walking. A frown formed on her delicate, heart-shaped face as she concentrated on the sounds of the forest. Another snap had her spinning around and peering down the sun-dappled path behind her. "Who's there?" Her voice wavered as she tried to remain calm.

The brush a few feet away from her moved and she stepped back as a man the size of a tree stepped forward. She blinked as he blocked out some of the light and only when her blue eyes had adjusted to the loss of light did she inwardly laugh at herself. The stranger was indeed taller than her, but not as tall as a tree, but he was thick like one. He looked to be over a foot and a half taller than her petite five-foot stature. His hair hung in loose waves to his shoulders, the color was as dark as night, but what drew her closer, unknowingly closing the distance between them, were his eyes. The soft blending of yellow and green seemed to stir something in her, but she knew not what it was.

"I am sorry I scared you."

The stranger stooped down and picked up something from the forest floor and held it out to Athelyna. She looked down and felt her cheeks grow warm as she took her empty basket, so lost in her assessment of the man that she had dropped the woven container.

"Thank you and it is alright. I was just startled. It is not often I meet someone on the path." Her voice still held an edge of fright to it, but as the man stood still, not choosing to reach out to her, or advance, she slowly calmed her racing pulse.

"It is not often I go into town. I prefer my solitude. May I walk with you?"

Athelyna pulled in her lower lip and reached up to tuck a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "If you'd like." She waited till he moved toward her before she turned and resumed her trek through the woods. "My name is Athelyna."

"A beautiful name for a beautiful creature. I am Wolfe."

Athelyna felt a wave of panic, but pushed it aside; telling herself that she was being silly and it had been her earlier daydream that was now causing her to feel frightened. "Mister Wolfe, it is a pleasure to meet you. Have you lived in these woods long?"

He rewarded her with a smile, one that made her heart flutter. "I have, though my home is much deeper into the woods than most travel and like I said before . . . I rarely venture into the village."

"My grandmother lives in the woods. I was visiting her today; then again I visit her every day. She is old and frail, so I take her fresh bread as well as other oddities that I think she'll enjoy. Today it was peach jam." Athelyna grinned as she recalled her grandmother's squeal of delight.

"Perhaps now that I know you travel this path every day I will have to make a point to stray from my home more often." Wolfe stared down on her bright yellow curls and felt his body responding to her scent. She was untouched. Pure. Innocent and so ripe for the picking. He'd waited eleven years to find her, the only one left that knew of his existence. Now he found himself regretting that he would have to end her life. As she walked a few steps in front of him, he moved to grasp the weapon at his waist.

"I would like that."

Her words surprised him, forcing him to drop his hand and quicken his step, once more catching up with her. "You would?"

Athelyna smiled. "Yes." She laughed at his look of disbelief. "You find it hard to imagine that I would want company in these woods?"

Wolfe's lips curled in a grin, but he nodded his head. "The beast of the forest frightens you." His statement was made with a hint of frustration, but Athelyna saw it as mocking humour at her expense.

"There are no such things Though if there were it would not be polite to laugh at one's fear " She turned her head away and increased the speed of her walk, feeling a bite of anger as well as a shudder of fear when she thought of the dreams that still plagued her.

"Athelyna." He reached out and grabbed her arm, turning her back toward him. His free hand came up to touch her face and he smoothed his fingers across her cheek. "I am sorry. I was not laughing, just surprised that you would want my company. Forgive me . . . please." He was surprised that he actually wanted her forgiveness and when he saw her eyes soften and her features relax he knew she had done just that. "Thank you."

Athelyna nodded her head and once more they resumed their walk. When they reached the village she turned to thank her new friend and found him studying the locals through partially hooded eyes. "Do you need help finding anyone or anything in particular?"

Wolfe smiled and winked. "I believe I have found all I desire." He watched her blink and then blush, before she turned and headed toward what he would later learn was her home. "Until we meet again." His whisper only heard by the wind.

Athelyna hurried home. Her thoughts consumed by the man with the haunting eyes. She'd seen eyes like that before, but could not remember where, nor was she overly concerned. Her steps led her to her home and she dutifully kissed her mother's cheek. "Grandmother sends her love."

Her mother smiled and placed the basket on the table. "Another cloak, I see." Her mother watched Athelyna remove the bright crimson garment and place it on a hook. The red hood was lined in a copper band of fox fur. "It is lovely," she said as she sliced at the apples she'd picked earlier that morning.

"It is, but every cloak she crafts is beautiful. I met someone today." Athelyna took a seat next to her mother and began to help peel the skins of the apples that had not yet met their fate.

* * *

  
**Wolfe**

* * *

 

The following morning Athelyna pulled on her cloak, fastening the red ribbon around her neck and pulling the hood over her hair. The wind picked up her skirt and she shivered as the cold air caressed her legs. She quickly finished fastening the hooks and eyes of the rich fabric, picked up her basket of warm bread and two slices of apple pie. Athelyna's steps were light, but quick as she hurried toward the forest. She waved hello to the villagers she passed and then looked expectantly around for Wolfe. Her shoulders slumped when she realized he was not there and her face showed her disappointment. As she stepped into the woods, she found herself wondering if the man had forgotten that she was going to be on the path.

"Good day Athelyna."

She looked up, having been concentrating on the tips of her shoes as she walked, and grinned. "Wolfe "Her smile as well as her eyes reflected her happiness of seeing him. "I thought you forgot." Her admission brought a smile to his face as he stepped forward.

"I have never forgotten you." His eyes stared into her and he watched her shiver. Wolfe stepped back. "What have you brought for you grandmother today?"

Athelyna lifted the cloth and the scent of bread and apples filled the air. "Bread and pie," she answered.

Wolfe breathed deep the aroma, catching the hint of the woman beside him and he felt his body stir with need. "Smells delightful, just like her granddaughter." Her cheeks grew red as Wolfe's eyes raked over her. "Does your grandmother like flowers?"

"Oh yes. She adores them. Her home is littered with them, inside and out."

"Perhaps you should gather some for her. I know where a beautiful patch of lilies grow thick in the meadow just a short walk from here." Wolfe stepped back and swept his arm in the direction of the darkest part of the forest.

Athelyna felt a sense of uneasiness once more consume her and she shook her head no and then hurried up the path. Wolfe watched her with hooded eyes, but quickly increased his own pace and caught up with her. "I am sorry. I did not mean to frighten you."

Her blue eyes were thick with unshed tears and she wiped at her heavily veiled lids. The gold lashes glistened in the light that slithered through the trees and danced upon her skin. "I am sorry. You did not frighten me. I . . . I just . . . I fear the forest, Wolfe. I have terrible dreams of my father's death and the forest frightens me."

Wolfe reached out and tugged on the ribbon that kept her hood over her bright yellow hair. "Tell me of these dreams." He pushed back the cloth and watched as her head became a glowing halo of brilliant light. His fingers pushed into her thick curls and he toyed with the silky strands between his fingers.

Athelyna leaned into his touch and instinctively kissed his palm as it moved to caress her face. She was surprised by her actions and felt her cheeks flare. "Forgive me . . ."

"I shall not forgive something as sweet as your lips upon my skin." Her skin turned a brighter crimson shade. "Tell me of your dreams Athelyna. Come, let us pick flowers together. I will be with you . . . trust me . . . there are no beast in the forest during the day."

She took the hand he offered and looked at the path that trailed behind her and ahead of her. For a brief moment she heard her father screams telling her to "Go!" and to "Stay on the path!" Even her grandmother and mother's voice seemed to echo in her head. A gentle squeeze and a soft tug brought her back to reality and she stared into the yellow-green eyes that were full of a need that she felt in herself, yet she knew not how to describe it. As she took the first step off the path Wolfe's smile grew wider. He continued to hold her hand, leading her through the thick foliage that surrounded them.

Less light entered this part of the woods and Athelyna found herself pressing closer to the tall man that was making her head swoon from his proximity and his firm and yet gentle touch. "Is this meadow far?" she asked, as she looked behind her and paled upon discovering the path was no longer visible.

"Not too far. My home is just around this bend." Wolfe continued onward, keeping his fingers interlaced with hers. "Would you care to see it?"

Athelyna nodded her head. Wolfe grinned and together they pushed through the woods and entered a small clearing. He waited for her reaction and was not disappointed. Her jaw dropped as she stared at the mammoth castle that seemed to blend into the mountain behind it. "I have never known of such a place."

"No one ventures off the path." His whispered breath brushed against her skin and Athelyna felt the hairs on her neck rise. She swallowed and heard a soft whimper leave her slightly parted lips.

"Come, let me treat you to a light lunch and then we will gather the flowers for your grandmother."

Again the warnings from her deceased father, her strict mother, and her loving grandparent returned to her, but she pushed them away as Wolfe looked expectantly at her. She smiled warily, but allowed him to lead her down the small hill and then across a path of brick and stone. They reached the castle doors and they parted without Wolfe lifting a finger. Athelyna expected to see a servant at the doors, thus explaining the way they had been opened, but no one was there. In fact as they moved through the large foyer and into the kitchen she couldn't help but take in the silence that welcomed her. "Wolfe, do you live here alone?"

He pulled several strips of jerky from a container and shrugged his shoulders. "Yes, but it is home." He gestured for her to take a seat at the worn table and he watched her fingers trace the deep scratches that scarred the surface. He could almost feel her fingers caressing his skin and he fought the desire that was building inside him. Wolfe had her now. He could end her life and continue his existence. It would be swift if he finished her off now . . . if he waited then she would suffer just as her father had.

"Are you okay?" Athelyna asked.

Her soft voice, laced with concern, pulled at him; he set the plate of jerky in front of her as well as a pitcher of cream. "I am fine. I simply was enjoying your presence in my home. It has been sometime since I have entertained . . . and never have I entertained a guest of such beauty." He took a seat beside her and watched her eat her light meal, chasing the salty meat with a few swallows of the thick, white beverage he had served her.

"You flatter me Wolfe, far more than I deserve." Athelyna licked her lips. She saw his hand move toward her. Her thoughts ran in circles as she kept herself still. His fingers brushed across her lips, picking up a few drops of cream that had escaped her cleansing muscle. When he drew his fingers to his lips and his tongue darted off to lick away the drops she felt her body sway toward him.

* * *

  
**Drawn to the Wolf-man**

* * *

 

"Athelyna." Her name fell from his lips as he pushed away from his chair at the same time he leaned in toward her. His mouth pressed softly against hers. Their lips parting and their tongues timidly seeking the other out. Wolfe felt his hunger growing for her as her scents filled his nostrils. He heard her whimper and felt her warm muscle seek out his own. Reaching out, his hands pulled her up out of her seat and he set her on the table. His fingers pushed into her hair and cupped her scalp. Carefully he leaned her head to one side, and moved his lips from her inexperienced ones. Tender kisses were placed on her jaw. They traveled upwards to her right ear which he traced with the tip of his tongue. All the while his fingers took a stroll down her neck, across her shoulders and then along her slender arms. "The cloak. Take it off," he told her as his fingers slipped to the first catch and popped it free.

Athelyna heard her grandmother ordering her to keep the cloak on. She never understood why, but as Wolfe's fingers began to open the bright red fabric, she became aware of her body and how the cloak had kept her womanly figure hidden behind its folds. "I . . ." She whimpered as he pressed a kiss at the base of her neck. "I mustn't."

Wolfe pulled back and stared deep into her blue eyes. "I want to see you Athelyna. Take it off." He trailed one finger down the skin that was already exposed to him. The flesh was creamy. The color reminding him of the lilies they would gather later. He watched her skin change to a brighter shade and he felt the heat of her blush against his skin. Wolfe bent his head and kissed the top of her chest, letting his breath slide purposely between the cloth of the cloak and her top. He felt her shudder and then he felt her fingers slide between them. "Why do you hide?" he asked. Licking his way back up to suck on her pulse that beat rapidly in her veins. He could feel the pulse of life. It forced a low growl to pour from his throat.

Her breath caught as she fought for control, pushing her grandmother's words away. "I have always worn the cloak . . ."

"You are safe here. There are no prying eyes to feast upon your skin, at least not eyes of those that you do not know. You do not need to hide from me." Wolfe tugged on her ear. His hands moving to her thighs where he gathered up the material of both the red cloak and her skirt. His nails grazed her skin and again she shuddered at his touch. "Please," he growled.

Athelyna released the remaining hooks that kept her cloak wrapped securely around her. She felt her legs melt as Wolfe began to knead the flesh. Her young, untouched body seemed to burn with each caress he delivered upon her skin. She licked her lips and then found herself wrapping her arms around his neck. "Wolfe, I feel so warm . . . so hot."

He smiled against her neck and reached up to unhook her arms. "Then we should remedy that." He pushed the cloak from her tiny form and gazed at the perky tits that rose up with each draw of breath she took into her lungs. The red material that had kept her hidden from man's lecherous eyes fell away. His hand moved to the waistband of her skirt, where her blouse had been tucked in. There was no gentleness as he pulled the fabric from its home and tugged it over her head. His mouth captured one of her nipples and Athelyna dug her fingers into his shoulders.

"Ohhh . . ." Air from her lungs gushed out, only to be dragged back in as he began to suckle from her breast. Her hands could not remain still as they slipped into his hair, pulled him deeper into her tit and then slid down to arms to hold tight to his thick frame. "Wolfe," she gasped and stared down at her nipple clenched between his sharp teeth. Her eyes locked with his and for a split second she saw the creature in her nightmares. She shook her head and closed her eyes, reopening them to find his mouth moving to engulf her other pink-hued pearl.

His tongue lapped at bead that he held poised for his devouring. He swept the wet muscle back and forth as his fingers moved to her skirt, which he had worked up to her hips. Slowly he dragged his palm up and down her leg, exploring the texture and the way it flexed under his touch. He licked his way from her tit to the center of her chest, where he glanced up and took in her passion-filled features. "You are beautiful."

Athelyna's eyes fluttered as she heard his words of adoration. She shifted in her seat as he moved to his knees and pulled her hips forward. "Wolfe . . . what are . . ." Her words died as she felt his hands tear away the cloth that covered her womanhood. There was no time for her to respond. His mouth captured her engorged lips and she felt herself slide back against the table. Her hands gathered up her skirt, lifting it higher, so Wolfe's maneuvers were not hindered in any way. She clenched the fabric in her fists, her nails threatening to tear into the soft cloth as his tongue began to sweep up and down the slick sides of her pussy's folds.

"Delicious." His words poured over her flesh and his breath blanketed her sex. Wolfe pushed the tip of his tongue up to her clit and rolled the strip of flesh back and forth, making Athelyna's hips buck against him. He spread her thighs wider apart and brushed his face against her perfumed home. He pressed deeper into her, sweeping his tongue down to toy with the opening of her pussy.

"Ohhh . . . oh Wolfe . . . I'm dying!"

Her words made him chuckle and the vibration of his laughter carried itself over her scorching flesh. "No my sweet dish . . . not yet." He went back to work, forcing her tight virgin hole to accept one of his thick fingers. He pushed into her sweet opening, and then screwed his finger to the right, letting his nail catch her fleshy side and then he pivoted it back to the left and scrapped it too with a tender caress. He felt her body tighten and his teeth began a journey of its own, exploring the shape, texture, and taste of the clit his tongue had bathed earlier.

Another finger entered her pussy and another gasp of unexpected delight filled the room. "Wolfe!" Her cry told him she was close and his own need was forcing his cock to ache with a demand that he knew he would have to answer. With the speed and strength that no mere man could possess Wolfe ripped his slacks from his person, leaving his cock jutting out and begging to be hidden once more, but this time in the depths of the succulent pussy that was wrapped tight around his invading fingers.

Wolfe dragged his hand from her sex and pulled her hips forward to the very edge of the table. "Athelyna!"

She opened her eyes and through a haze of glory, unlike anything she had ever felt before, she watched Wolfe's cock thrust into her moist sex. The pain of his invasion was quick and she cried out from the shock of his possessing of her. He stifled her remaining whimpers with his mouth, coaxing her tongue to dance with his. As she relaxed her mind and body, Athelyna began to feel warmth radiating from their joined passions and she shifted against his cock. Wolfe muttered a low curse and Athelyna laughed softly as she repeated her earlier action and was rewarded with a hard thrust of his own.

"Still, my beautiful flower or I will hurt you."

"No I want to feel all of you . . . all of this," she whispered and licked his lips before leaning back and offering her breasts to his hungry mouth.

Wolfe kept one hand on her hip, the other moved to grope her tit. He squeezed it, mashing it into her chest and then he held it tight as his mouth descended in the pebble that beckoned him. His hips began to pull back, his cock following. He slammed back in, giving Athelyna the full dick she had demanded from him. Her body reacted on instinct, clutching his rod as he pulled free and then swallowing him up as he sunk back in. Over and over he delivered her, thrust after thrust. Wolfe worshiped first one nipple, then the other. He pulled, sucked, and tore at her flesh, lavishing it with a hungry lick or drawing out her pleasure with hard bites.

"Ohhh Wolfe . . . Something . . .ohh God, please . . .it. . ."

He heard her try to comprehend what her body was feeling and that only drove him closer to the edge. "Don't be scared," he told her as he felt her body suddenly go stiff and his own muscles clench tight as his balls shot their cream into her womb and coated her with the slick satin of milk that her pussy hungered for. He felt her own juices explode from her sex and the different temperatures mixed together. His seemed to boil from his hard shaft, while hers seemed to be the balm his cock needed to ease his suffering.

Athelyna's eyes rolled to the back of their sockets and her fingers dug into her lover's hair. Tears fell from her eyes as her pussy convulsed around Wolfe's dick. A whimper escaped her as she fought for the words to describe what was happening to her. Sheets of red silk seemed to flow down over her clenched lids. Flames of orange and crimson fire consumed her as she felt another shimmering wave of fluids slip from her inner core and cover Wolfe.

Slowly she felt him ease his weight from her and she opened her eyes. Little sparks danced in front of her and when she felt his kisses against her neck, she softly purred and turned to capture his mouth with hers. Wolfe felt his cock slip from her pussy and the cool air of the room touched his wet shaft. A shiver ran through his spine and he knew she would feel the same if he did not cover her. With a gentle hand he swept her skirts down and then pulled himself from her tasty lips.

"We should go," he told her, picking her blouse up and helping her to dress. "You must promise me something Athelyna."

She noticed the difference in his voice and she paused in the smoothing of her skirt. "Anything."

"Never stray from the path at night. Swear this to me. I can not protect you from the dark." His hands were in her hair, holding her scalp tightly as he stared into her blue orbs. "Promise me."

Athelyna shook her head as best she could. His hold on her firm and frightening. "I promise."

* * *

  
**Revelations I**

* * *

 

He closed his eyes and kissed her forehead. "Thank you." She shook her head yes and the watched as he stepped back and picked up what little remained of his torn pants. Athelyna blushed as Wolfe caught her staring at his manhood and when he touched her breast the heat of his palm burned through the material, searing her skin. "Button your cloak. Now I know why you were told to keep this on. You would have been devoured years ago if you hadn't." Wolfe spoke the truth. Had he seen the woman before him developing into the ripe, lush lover he had just taken, she would have been his long before now.

Athelyna slid from the table and pulled on her red cape and began to secure the fasteners. Wolfe left the kitchen and as she was about to tie the hood's ribbon she noticed he had already returned and had donned another pair of slacks, similar to the ones he'd been wearing, but the coloring darker.

They walked together to the meadow and side by side they chose flowers for her grandmother. He took his time with her as he led her through the forest and eventually back to the path. "Will I see you tomorrow?" she asked her face full of hope and desire.

Wolfe reached out and stroked her cheeks. "Yes. I will be here tomorrow and the next day and the day after that. But remember your promise. Do not take the path at night."

Athelyna smiled. "I will remember." She stepped up on her tiptoes and kissed him. When she left his side she was aimed in the direction of her grandmother's home, but she never remembered getting there.

"Come in girl," a weak voice called out. Athelyna entered the little cottage and smiled at her grandmother. She lifted the cloth and began to set the bread and the pie on the table. "You are late."

Athelyna gnawed gently on her lower lip and then remembered the flowers. She reached into the basket and produced them with a flourish. "I was picking these for you." Her grin was wide as she remembered with whom she had picked the flowers with. Her thoughts were interrupted by her grandmother's shriek of anger as the lilies were ripped from her hand.

"You left the path" The accusation made Athelyna's ears ring. The lilies were flung to the floor, far away from Athelyna and her grandmother.

"Grandmother." Athelyna stepped back. "I wasn't gone for long," she lied. "I picked the flowers, and then got back on the path. There was no harm done. I am fine. Please calm yourself."

She watched Beatrix's blue eyes glare back at her and her white hair seemed to look more haggard than usual. "Grandmother, please . . . I am sorry I have angered you. I won't stray again." Even as Athelyna said the words she knew she had just told her grandmother another lie.

"Did you keep your cloak on?" The question caught Athelyna off guard. She shook her head yes, but refused to voice a third lie in less than a minute.

"Good." Beatrix walked over to her granddaughter and took her by the shoulders. "You must stay on the path, child. Wear the cloak when you travel."

"Why grandmother?" Athelyna finally asked the question that had plagued her since she was old enough to walk by herself. "Why is it the same cloak? Every year it is the same colour, the same shape, even the fur of the fox looks the same. Why? I don't understand."

Beatrix sighed and took her granddaughter's hand in hers. She led her to the room where she often told the stories of her youth, stories that only young children believed. Yet, as those children grew their parents told them the stories were just fairy tales made to make boys and girls fear the unknown. Beatrix took a seat in the well used rocker that her husband had made her years before his death. She smoothed her hands over the worn arms and motioned for Athelyna to sit at her feet.

"Many years before you or I had even been thought of, this land was rich with wealth. There were Kings and Queens, Lords and Ladies and there was peace. But all good things come to an end and so began a war between groups of settlers that hunted at night. They came in packs, ravishing the women, tearing the hearts from men and devouring their flesh. Warriors from every nation banded together to drive out the demons that possessed the night and eventually, over time, their numbers grew weaker and they fled. Everything and everyone returned to a peaceful life and the horror of the forest was over as quickly as it had begun."

Athelyna wanted to ask about Wolfe's castle, but knew she could not or her grandmother would know she had not been alone that morning. "There were rumours about a few demons still living in the woods. It was believed they had a cave somewhere in the deepest parts of the forest. A path was laid and a local healer who several believed knew the art of Witchcraft was called forth to offer protection to those that walked the path. She agreed to do as was requested of her, but knew that her pagan gods would frown on her if she gave the mortals everything they desired. So she placed a spell on the path. Whoever walked it during the day was safe. If one dared walk it after dark than they took their own lives in their hands."

Beatrix side and looked over to where a can worn pair of boots rested in a corner. "I went into labour with your mother. It was painful. Blood pooled at my feet and your grandfather and I both knew we could not deliver our child alone. He left that night and in the morning when one of the village women came to my door I was almost dead. Your mother had been born during the night. I remember screaming as she fell from my womb and landed on the thick blankets piled under me. I held her until someone took her from my arms."

Athelyna could picture the story as her grandmother wove it with her soft voice and her descriptive words. She could picture a scared and frightened girl, barely older than herself, holding her child as she lay dying in a pile of bloody blankets and sweaty clothing. "Mother never shared this story."

"I never told her. She always stayed on the path," Beatrix muttered. "Your grandfather's body was found two days later. His throat ripped open. His chest torn into pieces. His heart missing." A tear fell down her worn features. "I knew what had happened. I knew the demons of the woods had hungered for so long that as soon as someone ventured onto the path they attacked. It is like keeping a wild dog locked in a cage. You only feed him scraps, never giving him enough to satisfy his hunger. The demons are like dogs. You've seen one of them . . ." Beatrix saw realization in Athelyna's eyes. "Yes, it was real. It was a werewolf that took your father's life. They still hunt at night, because the animals of the forest are like scraps; they are not what drives away the hunger of the demon."

Athelyna's head suddenly began to pound as she recalled the scream that leapt from her throat. She tasted the fear she had experienced eleven years ago when she watched her father's body being lifted into the air and his life's blood spill from his back and throat. A pair of yellow-green eyes glowed back at her as a snarling snout opened wide to consume her father. "The cloak, grandmother . . . why the cloak?" She needed to know what the cloak meant. Fear snaked through her as she tried to deny what her mind was telling her.

"The cloak keeps you hidden from them. After your mother stopped believing the stories, I knew I would have to protect you myself. I found a wise woman, more ancient than I and she shared with me a spell to ward off the evil that lurks in the woods. Each cloak is dipped in this potion. It shields your scent. Masks it. No matter how hot a day it is, when you walk the forest you must always keep it closed tight. Each hook fastened. Each ribbon tied. If it smells your scent, just once it is said it will hunt you down and take your life, for the aroma of your blood is like a treat to its senses. The night your father left. You wore your cloak, didn't you girl? . . . I remember."

Athelyna nodded. "Yes. I wore it." As she rose though she remembered that the night her father died, her hood had fallen from her blond curls and she had pushed at the folds of her cloak when she scrambled to her feet. The yellow-green eyes had watched her that night, took in her hair, her fear and feasted on her scent. A shudder ran through her as she thought of her grandmother's story and tried to convince herself that it was just that . . . a story.

* * *

  
**Revelations II**

* * *

 

The daily visits to Athelyna's grandmother's house became ones that she longed for, as she refused to focus on the legend her grandmother had crafted. She would gather the goodies in her basket, making sure to include extra for her and Wolfe to enjoy in the meadow. Each morning she left earlier than the other and each afternoon she made it to her grandmother's even later than the afternoon before. It wasn't until she received news one morning from her mother that she would have to go to the cottage of her grandparent later than usual, because her mother was ill and needed Athelyna to stay home to manage the house.

Athelyna sulked most of the day, knowing that Wolfe would be waiting for her. Yet there was no way for her to reach him. She never ventured off the path without him and she knew she would become lost if she tried to find his home on her own. As dusk began to light the sky in hues of pink and purple a frown replaced the pout she'd worn all day. "Athelyna!" her mother called.

She hurried to her mother's room and helped her to the bathroom. "Have you gone to your grandmother's yet?"

"No mother. There hasn't been time."

"Go now, before it becomes too dark. She will be worried about you and then hurry home. No visiting and listening to her stories."

Athelyna sighed as she helped her mother reclaim her position on the bed. "Mother it will be dark when I start back. Surly I can wait till tomorrow."

Her mother made a face and then rolled her eyes. "Athelyna you are not still afraid of the woods. I told you there are no beasts of the forest. Your father left us. He abandoned us. He was not eaten by some wolfman."

Athelyna shuddered as her mother brought up her dreams. "I know . . . it is just . . . the dark mother. I cannot be on the path at night."

"Your grandmother will be worried. Now go and . . ."

"Stay on the path," Athelyna muttered. She left her mother alone, closing the door behind her. Her hood hung free and she only buttoned a few of her cloak's hooks. Her fingers curled around the basket and she quickly pushed bread and butter inside, covered it with a cloth and hurried from her home. The sun's final rays slipped behind the horizon and she knew Wolfe would be angry with her if he discovered she had ventured into the woods at night. The words of her mother and her all knowing grandmother fell heavily on her shoulders; she quickly ran toward the path that would take her into the heart of the woods.

Wolfe stared at the man wielding the axe. He had been watching him for some time, gauging his movements as well as his strength and weaknesses. As the sun slipped away he felt his bones grow and lengthen. His metamorphoses no longer affected him like it did when he was a young Lycan. Now, he knew how to prevent himself from crying out as he was forced to endure the rapid growth of another six inches in height and another dozen in girth. He waited for the stretching of his skin to end and the ache from the bulging muscles to ease. A shudder snaked up his spine and the thick, black fur that covered his body waved in the wind. Wolfstan had emerged and was ready to feast on the man who dared to enter into his territory.

Radulphus heard the crackling of the woods behind him and he stopped swinging his axe. He turned, eying the forest and trying to catch whatever animal had disturbed his work. He saw nothing and resumed chopping, using the last bit of light he could to finish his chore. It was rare for him to stay out so late and he knew the old woman would wonder why he had not been there to deliver her wood. He thought of his wife; home alone with their new babe, wrapped in a blanket the old woman had made. He stacked the wood into his cart and turned to pick up the shirt he'd discarded earlier.

It was at that moment that Radulphus felt the wind knocked out of him and a scream erupted from his lungs as pain ripped through his back. He spun around and held his axe high, then fell to his knees as he stared into the haunting yellow-green eyes of death. The snarling fangs seemed to glow in the dark and he saw his life flash before his eyes. Just as the creature began to swoop down on him it stopped and sniffed the air. Radulphus used the momentary distraction to his advantage and lashed out with his axe, slicing the black creature's upper thigh. A howl echoed through the forest and Wolfstan swiped the woodcutter with a clawed fist before he spun and crouched on four legs to leap into the woods, intent on finding the scent that drew his lust.

* * *

  
**The Last Beast**

* * *

 

Radulphus pulled on his shirt, wincing at the pain that washed over him, but he vowed to protect whatever human the wolfman was now after. He recalled the stories of his youth, ones told by Beatrix, the old woman he was chopping wood for. As he tracked the animal he couldn't believe her wild stories of men possessed by dogs were true. What other fairy tales had she told that were actual real life stories. He shuddered to think of all the horrors that existed in the woods. A shrill scream filled the night and Radulphus picked up his speed, doing his best to ignore the pain from his wounds. Fear flowed through him as he realized the scream had come from the direction of Beatrix's cottage.

Athelyna had just entered the clearing where her grandmother's cottage lay nestled in its center, when she felt a shiver of fear roll through her. She fought the urge to turn back and run home. Her grandmother's door was just a few yards away. She squared her shoulders as she stepped onto the stone path her grandfather had lay earlier in his marriage to her grandmother.

Beatrix prayed that her granddaughter would not come to her home. She could feel it in her bones that the young woman had lied to her and the demon was hunting tonight. The same sense of terror she had the night she gave birth overcame her and she paced back and forth and her lips moved in a silent plea.

A noise outside brought Beatrix out of her self-induced vigil. She hurried to the door of her cottage and swung it open, hoping with all her might that Athelyna was not there. Her hand flew to her throat as she stared past Athelyna and into a pair of eyes that seemingly glowed back at her. "Run child!" Beatrix shouted as she ran toward her granddaughter.

Athelyna felt the presence of another in the clearing and she turned to stare into the same eyes she'd seen looking back at her in adoration and desire. This time however those yellow-green orbs were clouded with a different kind of hunger, one Athelyna feared. She stepped back, colliding into her grandmother, sending both of them stumbling.

Wolfstan snarled. His lip curling away from his sharp teeth. His eyes darted from the frail woman to the other that seemed to be bathed in a scent he hungered for. He moved toward the small female with the crimson cloak. The need to feed from the scent that had teased his wolf-half for so long burned in his soul. He saw her fear, smelled it and it only fueled his own lust to devour the beating heart that forced her blood to flow through her veins.

Beatrix watched in horror as the creature stalked her granddaughter. He had dropped back down to four legs and moved stealthily around her, slowly advancing back and forth. Beatrix worked her tired muscles, forcing them to rise from her fallen position. She grabbed a rock, small compared to the beast that was closing in on her granddaughter, but she only wished to draw his attention so Athelyna could get away. Her eyes fell on the wound in his leg and she held the rock even tighter. She ran toward him, the rock's jagged edge pointing out.

The surprise jolt that flowed through Wolfstan caught him off guard. He rose to his full seven feet, throwing Beatrix off of him in the process. The rock protruded from the woodcutter's earlier blow and he howled as the jagged edge tore into his pulsing veins. Athelyna watched in horror as her grandmother crumbled in a heap. She screamed and ran toward the unconscious and crippled figure. "Grandmother!"

Wolfstan smelled the blood of Beatrix as if flowed freely from a gash at the back of her head. His tongue wrapped quickly over his nose. His eyes feasted on the old woman and the young girl. His clawed fingers curled into fists and when he reached the pile of flesh, that seemed destined to be his, he watched the blonde temptress turn to stare up at him. "Wolfe," she whispered, as tears fell from her watery blue eyes.

Wolfstan took a step back. His thickly lashed lids blinked in surprise as he studied the petite woman. Athelyna rose, sparing a quick glance to her grandmother. "Wolfe, it is me. Do not do this." Her face looked as pleadingly as her words sounded. She could sense the struggle in him as he stepped back, eying her cautiously as she began to stalk him.

A low rumble in his throat erupted as he breathed in the scent of another. His lips rose once more in a threatening snarl as he turned toward the man he'd been watching early. Radulphus stood poised and ready to strike as he took in the scene of the broken and seemingly dead woman and her granddaughter Athelyna. His finger opened and closed on the handle of his two axes. The larger one still held the copper blood that had spilled from the slice he'd delivered to Wolfstan's leg. The smaller axe was light and often used to chop off small branches from the larger logs. It hung loose in his grasp yet he knew his ability to fling the wicked blade and hit his mark.

Wolfstan struggled to control the rage that built him. He wanted to sink his teeth into the delicate skin of his mortal lover, yet deep down he felt an inner battle to keep her safe. He watched from one corner of his eye as she attempted to walk around him. His arm stretched out and he grabbed her, tucking her behind him with a deep growl, which was his command that she was to remain where he could protect her.

Radulphus stared in shock as the beast drew the girl behind him. He knew he had to time his attack just right so the girl, Beatrix and he survived. There would not be another opportunity.

"Wolfe, please . . . please go home. Let me take you home." Wolfstan growled low, wanting her to remain silent "You told me to stay out of the woods at night . . . I know you won't hurt me. You love me . . . as I love you." Her hand reached out and she touched his arm, squeezing the thick muscle and letting her fingers slip into the soft fur.

Wolfstan looked down on her fingers, the contrasting colors bringing a sense of rightness that he'd never experienced before. He turned to her, his eyes holding her steady and knowing gaze. "Wolfe . . . Leave here wit. . ." Her words were stolen from her as she saw the glint of metal flying through the air. Wolfstan felt her change in demeanor and spun toward the woodcutter. The large axe fell into his chest and he staggered back, his head thrown back as a painful howl was ripped from his lungs.

Athelyna screamed as she pushed herself into Wolfstan's arms. She never saw the second, lighter blade soaring through the air, the target being the creature's exposed neck. Wolfstan's eyes flickered for a moment as he felt Athelyna's body stiffen. Her eyes grew wide and her hands gripped his arms. She felt the muscles under the flesh, the fur no longer a barrier that kept the man Wolfe from her. Wolfe wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as his change from Wolfstan finished and they both fell to the ground. He felt her blood flow from the wound on her back as well as his own seeping from the gaping hole in his chest.

"Athelyna." His voice laced with pain that was unbearable. He moved his fingers up to her face and pushed her golden locks out of the way, wanting nothing more than to see her blue eyes looking back at him.

Radulphus stared at the sight before him. The wolfman no longer existed. In his place lay another, a man just like any other. He hurried over to Beatrix and touched her cheek. He called her name, his eyes shifting from the couple and the pale features of the old woman. Beatrix stirred and Radulphus sighed in relief. He helped her into a sitting position, whispering for her to not move.

Beatrix looked around and saw her granddaughter in the arms of a man she did not recognize. She crawled forward and finally understood what had transpired. She stared at the bloody axe that protruded from Athelyna. A cry of alarm was stifled by her fist closing over her mouth. She heard the man whispering words of love to her granddaughter and she listened as her daughter repeated those same words of devotion. "Athelyna," she whispered, reaching out to stroke the blonde curls, just as the man beneath her did. Beatrix noticed the other weapon, this one buried deep into the man's chest. "The wolfman." Her words were muffled by a wailing howl that seared the night.

Beatrix felt a vice-like grip in her chest as she felt the last beat of her grandchild's heart and the last pulsing breath of the wolfman's life flow into the ground that surrounded them. She buried her face in her hands as she wept over the lover's whose hearts and souls now belonged to a higher being; no longer did the night or day separate them.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So I had posted this earlier on my ffnet profile yeaaars back. I have always wanted to do a fairy tales series. Fingers crossed.  
> Tell me what you guys thought of it!
> 
> https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10673061/1/Red-Riding-Hood


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